Dealin'
by TerminalMadness83
Summary: After surviving the Reavers and The Operative, Mal confesses his thoughts while the crew sleeps.


**DEALIN'**

There was a loud fizz in the distance and the capture wobbled around. Mal walked over to his bed and adjusted it setting it down in front of him. "Gorram it," he murmured. Mal sat in front of the capture, obviously flustered and at a loss for words. He'd taken the capture from Inara's bag long after she'd left Serenity, and, Mal being Mal never told her of its whereabouts once she finally decided staying at Serenity was better for her.

Mal, in a usual bit of annoyance accidentally deleted the capture that Kaylee recorded the day of her departure, and once he discovered he could record on it, he'd gotten a notion. It was a notion that he was almost embarrassed to admit to anyone. But that morning, as Zoe took over the cockpit, Mal went to bed, and awoke the next morning quickly rushing from his bed and grabbed the capture. He made sure to lock his room and, shirtless, and obviously half asleep, he recorded. Though he was half asleep, he could barely keep his thoughts at bay.

"Uh—I don't know how to," he stuttered groaning, "Don't quite know how to talk into this. So, I'm hopin' I'm not just talking through my backside here. Uh," he rustled his hair, "Okay… it's been a mite tense 'round Serenity. But we're dealin'. Why I got an itching to talk about this is puzzlin', seein' as how the crew is gettin' itself together again. It's been six months. Six months in the wide open space. And the crew and me is just getting our wings back. Serenity is still in tip top, and I'm still manning the cockpit all my little lonesome."

"Inara is on Serenity again. And… well, it's awkward," he scoffed, "She's… well, she's somethin'. I'm glad she's back. The crew, like the ship is holdin' and flyin' true. Or we try, at least," he nodded. His smile faded quickly, "Wash has been dead for almost a year now. And we miss him," he stalled for a second obviously saddened, "It's been six long months. And we lost our crew. The shepherd and Wash were… priceless." He looked back cautiously, "We seen Reavers, gun runners, smugglers, and the alliance, and Wash's death was the hardest thing we ever had to confront. It wasn't the notion he'd died that put the spooks in us, but… it was going on. Life had to go on. And we tried." He nodded lowering his head, "Gorram it did we try."

"When the operative called off the alliance on our hides, we had to go back. And that was a horrifying thought. The alliance towed Wash's body off his seat and into a morgue, and Zoe just wouldn't allow it. When she healed—hell, **_before_** she healed, she made sure we got the body back from the alliance. "No gorram pity burial", she said. So, we took her request, and we got Wash back. We shipped him back to his home where we buried him near his childhood place. It was hard leaving him. Zoe took it the hardest, as suspected. Funny thing is, ever since Wash left us, things just ain't fun here. I know, I'm the cap'n and I'm not about fun, but Wash was always calming us. He gave us somethin' to look forward to. And… he gave Zoe a purpose."

"Ain't a month gone by where we don't have to lift Zoe from her bed to get her out there… almost relieved her of her rank," he smirked almost angrily, "I love Zoe… but it came to it. Wash, it just came to it. The crew just been droppin', and I just didn't want to lose her. Jayne is one in particular who ain't been the same. Wash was always there to keep him in line, and there's none of that now. Worst of all, though, is the pilot. For a few months, I considered re-hiring a new pilot. And, as suspected. The crew fought. I wasn't the enemy, shoot, I wasn't even liking it, **_too_**. But I **_had_** to. And one night we all gathered in the mess room, and we talked. Well… it was more like yellin' and hollerin' than talkin'. But when it came down to it after the hours, we stopped."

"River is holding tight as the pilot for now," he explained, "She got an aptitude for it. She's good. And she feels safe in the cockpit. Today I handed over the pilot's chair to her and she just snapped into it. She told me she feels Wash when she's in his seat… and after what's happened in the last few months, I don't quite doubt her. I always told the shepherd I don't believe in that mystic hoodoo and whatnot, but I like to think when Wash went, he left some of himself behind with him. Don't quite make me worship the fluffy lord, but it makes me trust that Wash was more than just a pilot." He shrugged and began putting on his shirt, "We all knew he was more. Zoe knew it better than we did. Maybe… maybe River is the right person… hell, she ain't got much else to do around here."

"The Shepherd was a man I respected," he explained, "Even if we never agreed, and I know he didn't die for nothing. I like to tell myself that every such time… I want to believe it. He and Wash are still my crew." He lowered his head, "I miss Wash… we all do. It… it hurts sometimes, for all of us. Now that Simon and Kaylee is gettin' all sugary and lovey, he's pickin' up the duties in helpin' her grieve, and we need that. River doesn't cry. When we needed her most, she was all crazy and jibbery, but when Wash died, she didn't cry. If I didn't know any better, she's probably still convinced he ain't dead yet. I'd love it if it were true…" There was a knock at his door. "Cap'n?" Kaylee asked, "Who are you talkin' to?"

"Just a minute," he replied.

"Who are you talkin' to?" asked Kaylee.

"Lookin' for a new mechanic!"

"Very funny," Kaylee scoffed, "You're… kiddin', right? Cap'n?"

He looked back and grabbed the capture, "Uh… got a job to do. Got duties, and we got more grievin'. Chances are I'll chuck this halfway into orbit… or—smash it over Kaylee's head, I haven't decided yet. Maybe someone will find it… maybe not uh, so if I don't see ya… take care."


End file.
